


Of the Backs We Watch

by Cibeeeee



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Request [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, i think, minor jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11255283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: "So, why are you angry?""I am not angry."Hanzo was only slightly irritated.(Anon requested on Tumblr: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”)





	Of the Backs We Watch

It bothered Hanzo more than he wanted to admit, which was only a little, but still. And it wasn’t obvious, so Hanzo only had to swallow it, have a drink of something so strong that could possibly blind him, and get over it – before anyone noticed his mood and ask him about it –

“So, why are you angry?” Genji asked as he sat down next to Hanzo. Hanzo glanced at McCree, who just got on the transport. The gunslinger looked exhausted, and was clenching onto a stitch at the side of his body. But he only smiled tiredly when he saw that the spot next to Hanzo was taken, and choose the nearest seat to him. Hanzo may be slightly irritated at the man, but not enough for him to not want McCree with him after a rough mission. He could use the man’s warmth for a nap, and McCree certainly slept deeper if he was laying his head on Hanzo’s shoulder.

Hanzo turned to glare at his brother. “Now I am,” he hissed in Japanese. “What do you want, Genji?”

Genji propped his metal feet up on the armrest of the chair in front of them. Mei-Ling startled at that, she was about to sit down there. Instead, she grumbled, shot Genji a glare, and walked to the very back and sat down.

Anyone else would think this was just Genji being a brat, but Hanzo knew Genji was actually forcing Mei-Ling to be seated far away from them. Probably because she understood Japanese. And that probably meant this conversation was going to be embarrassing for Hanzo.

“Brother,” Genji started again. “Why are you mad at our resident cowboy?”

“I am not mad at him,” Hanzo grunted impatiently.

Genji threw his head back and let out a dramatic sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“Do what?”

“You stewing in your head and not telling people what your problem is.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“So there is something?”

Hanzo promptly crossed his arms, shut his eyes, and shut Genji’s voice out as best as he could. But being apart for ten years and only reconciled two years ago rusted his ability to ignore Genji efficiently. So somehow, Genji managed to talk the entire flight back with Hanzo’s minimal “whatever you say” and “fuck off” responses. Thank the heavens that the flight from Faro to Gibraltar was so short Hanzo survived and bolted off the plane as soon as they landed, using Reinhardt’s bulk to stall Genji as his brother shouted behind him.

He punched the code to his room, and slipped inside before anyone could follow. Hanzo could surely use a shower, but his legs had been giving him grief the entire mission and he really just want some rest. His temper was frayed. His legs ached. And the soft sunrise of Gibraltar peeking through his blinds was only irritating him further because he knew he shouldn’t sleep but Hanzo was so _tired_.

A knock came from outside the door. Hanzo resisted the urge to snap. It may not be Genji.

It wasn’t. McCree’s voice droned into the tense gray of the room when Hanzo asked who it was. Hanzo got up to let him in before returning to the bed and started working on removing his prosthetics.

“Didn’t see you in our room,” McCree said. He was still dirty from the mission, like Hanzo, but thankfully only that and not injured. _Of course,_ Hanzo thought bitterly, _he has someone watching his back._

“Is something wrong?” McCree asked, sat down heavily next to Hanzo. “You got the look.”

“No, I do not.”

McCree rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“It’s nothing.” Hanzo finished taking off his legs and was now massaging the sore red at the ends of the stumps.

“Then why are you in your old room instead of ours?”

“It’s nothing,” Hanzo repeated.

“Hanzo, sweet,” McCree said patiently. Jesse was always more patient when he was tired somehow. “Did something happened during the mission?”

Hanzo didn’t reply. McCree knew he was on the right track.

“Was it me?”

“No,” Hanzo said. “Yes. Not really. It’s not important.”

“It is if you are angry.”

“I am not angry,” Hanzo said. He wasn’t angry. He was only a little dejected.

“What is it?”

Hanzo struggled with his words. It was amazing and very worrying how easily McCree could make him want to talk with just the change of his tone.

“At the mission,” Hanzo said, preparing himself for sharing his thoughts. “Hana saved you when one of the mercenaries tried to flank you.”

“Yes…?”

“And you said….” Hanzo trailed off, feeling increasingly ridiculous and mortified that this was bothering him at all. Hana didn’t do anything wrong, and McCree definitely didn’t do anything wrong when he gave his thanks in the following words: “I know you will always have my back,” with a wink.

McCree’s eyebrows shot up at the same time Hanzo cut himself off, clearly remembering what he said and where Hanzo was going with his train of thoughts. His mouth opened and closed a few times before finally forming words.

“Wait a minute,” McCree said. “Are you _jealous_?”

Hanzo gaped, and bristled. “I am not jealous!”

“You are!” McCree couldn’t help but barked a laugh, and stifled it quickly when Hanzo snarled. “You didn’t get jealous when I flirted with the bartender, but at me thanking a teammate.”

“Your tendency to charm people doesn’t bother me,” Hanzo said. “But my inability to protect you does.”

Now McCree was shocked for a whole different reason. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“I know, and that’s why I didn’t want to talk about this in the first place.” Hanzo said dourly.

“Oh, partner….” McCree leaned forward and brushed a kiss to Hanzo’s grimy face, and pressed their forehead together.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t talk when Hanzo slipped from their contact and rested his face on McCree’s shoulder. Or when McCree replaced Hanzo’s hands with his own to soothe Hanzo’s aching legs.

Eventually, Hanzo spoke, muffled. “I only wish to be the one that keeps you safe.”

“You know you do, and you know you can’t always be the only one to look out for me.”

“I understand.” Hanzo murmured. He could tell when he was being unreasonable, it was an unfortunate and familiar fault of his. “But I am grateful to have a good team that I know will always have your back.”

“That sentiment is mutual,” McCree pressed a kiss to the back of Hanzo’s neck. “And I for one, will always feel the safest when you are the one watching my every step.”

Hanzo wrapped his arms around McCree’s body in silent agreement. That was what Hanzo wanted to do. For the first time in long years, this was something he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> This was from [this](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/post/161982438881/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)  
> prompt list 
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw) ! Thank you for reading:>


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